At the end of October, I counted out 6 weeks to finalizing our adoption of Lily. I added time for the travel in China. I added time for surgery and recovery. I counted up days and weeks and months, until this long journey of adoption would be over. She would be healed and home. Prayers would be answered, and miracles would be seen. Come on, baby. And then, yes then, the Christmas comes. Come on, Christmas, I prayed.
And now, at long last, Christmas has come. Our baby is home, and we are rejoicing. There are really no words to describe this child. Miracle after miracle and healing after healing.
Now that she’s home one month:
● She has gained 1.3lbs
● Her eyesight has been found to be near perfect, despite her eye protruding significantly when she was 9 months old.
● Her small ear bones are perfectly formed and once her ear is clear of the tumor, she will have perfect hearing.
● The tumor itself is out of her throat- and although her airway and artery are shifted to one side- she is in no danger of stroke or air troubles.
● The tumor is under her tongue pressing it to the side, but she can chew and swallow.
● The holes in her skull bones are present, but no tumor is pressing into her brain, and no part of her brain is coming through.
We are now focusing on less serious medical concerns like her asthma and keeping her healthy through the winter. We are focusing on attachment and healing. This is beyond amazing to me. Sometimes I think I must have imagined the urgency or overestimated her diagnosis. But then I go back and read email after email from doctors across the nation and the world saying they could not and would not operate on her. I read the reports that give her life expectancy of 4-6 months. I see the pictures of her eye protruding outside her skull. I know I didn’t make that up. I know it was serious.
And I know that I witnessed a miracle. And yet, that word seems too small to encompass just how amazing this journey has been. Because of your prayers and our God, she is alive. She is home. She is loved. She is giggling and babbling. She claps her hands for her sisters and puckers her lips to be kissed.
Christmas has come to remind us of another baby who came a long time ago to be the greatest miracle of all. God draws near to us- in that manager, and in this home. He is still moving. He is still the miracle bringer. And she is learning to walk around our Christmas tree, as the hymns play. Our child is home, healed in ways we couldn’t have imagined. The wonders of your love, indeed.